A bunch of coins
A rolled up paper
A tinge of flame
And I burned myself to death.

A long day’s work
A dusky evening
A bottle of liquid
And my babies died of hunger.

A sweaty note
A cool idle night
A perfumed whore
And I saw my wife’s corpse.

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

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